White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 10

Calming smile

Peter hated being wrong. Most people would probably agree with him on this. But somehow, Peter felt that he often had to pay more for his mistakes. Maybe he was a stubborn male with a big ego? He sure hoped not.

No matter his ego, he still did not have functional air conditioning in his house when New York set a heating record. And in his part of the world - New York City - a heating record meant that had to use air conditioning to keep the temperature in your home at a decent level. New York's electrical bill peaked in the summer. In his Viking dreamland, it peaked in the winter.

TV screens had become thin, but ACs had not. What stood on his sofa table, freshly unboxed, was big and heavy as an old fat television. He took a good grip and lifted it, carrying it towards the open dining room window.

"I know, Satchmo. You warned me not to use the central air before the blackout hit." Peter placed the box down in the window slot. "But I didn't listen. 'cause you're a dog." Satchmo somehow managed to appear offended. "So until we get it fixed, meet our new AC."

"Oh, it's a hot one," El said, coming in through the front door. "Well, hello, my boys."

"Hello."

"Wow. Look at the new air conditioner."

"Yeah. How's the world's most interesting evil man?" She had told him a lot about this Stanzler, who had no time for politeness. All he wanted was effectiveness at a low cost.

"Well, he claimed he ordered an eight-foot ice sculpture, not four, and, well, actually, we need to talk about Stanzler. I told you Andrew makes his money as an energy trader, right?"

Andrew? Peter frowned, trying to remember while he browsed the instruction manual for the AC.

"Uh...Yeah."

"Well, actually, it's worse than that. I've been working with his assistant, Brooke, and she thinks Stanzler's involved in creating the blackouts."

El sat down by the dinner table.

So, Andrew in Andrew Stanzler, El's horrible client. But had El just said...?

"Say that again," Peter requested.

"Yeah. Brooke overheard Stanzler talking about it with another trader. So she did some digging. She thinks they're withholding supply during peak hours and then selling energy to the city for triple the rate."

"El, these are very serious allegations."

"Honey, I know."

Peter thought he was used to crime and criminals, but this was a real cynic.

"There are three confirmed deaths," he said, "and it's cost the city tens of millions."

"That's why I'm telling you," El answered, already knowing.

"All right," Peter nodded, finding focus. "We have to bring her in to the Bureau."

"She doesn't want to come in. She's terrified that someone's gonna see her and tell Stanzler," El said, and Peter sighed. "Do you know he actually threatened to shoot the painter today?"

"Seriously?"

"Oh, he was half-joking. But I wouldn't put it past him."

"Okay. So, where can I talk to Brooke?" Peter wanted to know.

"Well, maybe come down to the museum while Stanzler's out?"

"That's good."

El rose and walked into the kitchen.

"You could bring Neal," she added.

"Why Neal?"

"Well, honey, she's really nervous. And, you know, Neal has a calming smile."